Brotherly Love

I tried not to panic. I’d managed fine up till now. How hard is it to sleep anyway. I’d never had a problem with it before. Lying in bed I try everything. I read until my eyes get tired. I listen to a CD on my Walkman. I go downstairs and watch TV. I count sheep. Nothing. I can’t do it. I remember some hay fever tablets we have in the cupboard, which are supposed to make you drowsy. My mum always complains they do anyway. I take a handful and close my eyes. The room seems to spin for a while but eventually I lose consciousness. Unfortunately, the tablets don’t have the effect I’m hoping for. Yes, I’m asleep, but I’m dreaming again, and this time I can’t wake up.

I’m coming up to my room to get ready for bed when I hear strange sounds coming from Katherine’s bedroom. I go in and find her sobbing on her bed. I sit down next to her and ask what’s wrong. She and Josh have broken up. He cheated on her with another girl. Asshole. The tears make her eyes look dazzling azure and I take her in my arms and cuddle her, trying to comfort her. Gradually her sobs slow until she’s lying sniffing in my arms. I sit up to leave but she asks me to hold her a little while longer. She’s not ready to be alone just yet. She snuggles into me and I stroke her silky hair. She looks up at me and our faces are inches apart. “I love you, Dan,” she whispers, before kissing me on the lips. I fight the feelings that are surging through my body. She keeps whispering and kissing me. “You’ve always been more to me than a brother, Dan.” More kisses. “Touch me, Dan.” I want her so badly. I summon my last ounce of strength but its not enough, I can’t resist her. I’m losing control, kissing her back, wanting her more and more. I fight it, try desperately to wake up, but I’m trapped. My dream fades into another.

Katherine’s having a bath. I need to use the loo but she won’t come out. She tells me to come in but not to look. I can’t wait so I do as she suggests. My eyes are straining to look at her wet, naked body but I fight the urges. As I’m leaving I hear her voice, low and seductive. “God I’m so horny Dan. Josh never satisfies me. What shall I do? Please help me.” I turn around to see her lying there, half concealed by bubbles. Her wet hair hangs round her face and her hand rests on her perfectly formed breast. My breath catches in my throat and my knees feel weak. I walk towards her slowly. When I reach the bath she takes my hand and slides it under the water. She rubs my finger over her clitoris, masturbating herself. I can’t breathe. I can’t take it anymore. I give in. I rip my clothes off with my free hand and climb into the bath with her. She slides her legs around me and I slip inside her. My hands are running over her back, her breasts, up and down her legs. I kiss her as I push myself deep inside her. She leans her head back and moans with pleasure. She feels so good. Water is going everywhere. Our wet, slippery bodies slide over each other as we work ourselves into a frenzy. Her moans become loader and louder and she cries out in pleasure as she climaxes. Her body shivers and the contractions of her vagina make me come hard. I’m moaning too and I don’t want it to stop. She keeps going and I come again, pressing myself against her and biting down on her neck to contain my excitement. It’s over. We lie back in the water, stroking each other and kissing. I want to hold her forever. I wish this moment would never end.

But it does. I wake up, my boxers a sticky mess, my bed drenched in sweat. I don’t even feel disgusted with myself anymore. I’m emotionally exhausted and my head is throbbing from over dosing on those pills. The sun is just peeping over the horizon and birds are beginning to chirp in the trees. I creep into Katherine’s room and stand by her bed watching her sleep. She looks like an angel. So innocent. So different from the Katherine in my dream. A tear of despair slides down my cheek. I hate myself.

********

Katherine’s excited. She is sitting at the kitchen table with our parents, planning the final details of her birthday party. I still haven’t got her a present but I haven’t been out of the house all week so I haven’t really had a chance. I’ve had flu. Well, I’ve been pretending to have flu while being tortured in my own personal hell. With all the excitement and activity, nobody’s really noticed anything unusual.

I honestly don’t know how long I can keep this up. My world is crumbling around my ears. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I despise myself for the way I feel but there’s nothing I can do about it. I don’t want to see a psychiatrist. They can’t take me away from my family. They can’t take me away from Katherine.

I’ve decided I need to talk to her. I need to confess how I feel to her. I know she’ll hate me for it. I know it’s not a good time. But I can’t wait any longer. I’m going insane! I’ve been waiting for a good moment for two days now. Finally, she takes a break from party planning and sits down next to me on the sofa.

“How are you feeling?” She’s so caring. She genuinely cares about me. I hesitate, knowing that as soon as I tell her how I feel, all of that will be lost. I need to though; I can’t keep this to myself any longer. Maybe she’ll feel the same. Maybe she’ll be pleased and she’s wanted me as much as I’ve wanted her.

“Dan?” I’ve been staring at her for too long. I have to speak. Words… words…

“Kat,” she waits expectantly, “Umm, listen.” She’s listening. Oh shit. Sweat is breaking out all over me. My heart is beating at 1000 miles per hour. “I have something I need to tell you. It’s really important but I’m not sure you’re going to like it.” She looks concerned.

“You can tell me anything, Dan, you know that.” I take a deep breath. My throat is dry and my hands are shaking.

“OK, look, don’t say anything until I’ve finished. I really hope you don’t hate me for this. If you do… just forget I said it.” That was pointless, what I’m about to tell her won’t be easily forgotten! She’s looking confused, I better get to the point. “OK, the thing is, Kat, I-”

BRRRRRR! Fuck! The doorbell rings and Katherine’s attention is lost. I pray it’s not for her, I need to finish this.

“Happy birthday honey!!” It’s her two best friends.

“Oh my god, I totally forgot you guys were coming!” Katherine squeals. She pauses and looks at me. Why did they have to come now?? “I’m sorry Dan, we’ll talk later OK?” I don’t reply.

Katherine leaves the house with her friends to go shopping. My heart has exploded in my chest and is splattered all over the inside of my rib cage. Shit.

********

I don’t know how long I’ve been lying here for. I need Katherine to come home so I can finish what I started. Confessing is the only way I can end this torment. And if I don’t do it soon I’m going to go mad. Suddenly, my mum rushes into my bedroom. Her dark eyes are wide and full of tears. Her face is ashen.

“Dan, you have to come quickly, get in the car!” She rushes back out. Come where? Why? What’s wrong? My head is spinning as I run downstairs and join my parents in the hallway. I glance at the clock, its 11.30pm. My dad is getting into the car in his slippers and my mum has mascara streaking her cheeks.

“What’s the matter?” I demand, “What’s happened? Where’s Katherine?” And then I begin to panic. Why isn’t she home yet? What if something’s happened to her? I climb into the car, tears of anticipation choking me. “Dad, what’s going on?” Accelerating dangerously fast out of the drive, he replies:

“We’ve just received a call from the hospital. Katherine’s been involved in an accident. She was on the bus on the way home from town, when it collided with a car. She’s unconscious and critical.” Everything freezes. I can’t breathe. Everything is silent except for the roar in my head. Dad’s words go round and round in my head: ‘unconscious and critical.’ ‘unconscious and critical’

The next couple of hours fly by. The hospital is busy with the multiple casualties from the accident. Doctors hurry about with clipboards, relatives cry, telephones ring, I wait. My brain has shut down. All I can register is that Katherine is in surgery. Unconscious and critical. I need to see her. I need to be with her. I need to look after her. Eventually a doctor approaches us looking forlorn. My parents, both looking worse for wear, sit up expectantly. We are invited into a small, private relatives room and sat down. I’ve watched enough episodes of Casualty to know that that’s not good. The doctors sits and pauses for a second before speaking.

“I’m deeply sorry to have to inform you of this,” he tells my parents, “But I’m afraid your daughter has passed away. We did everything we could. You can see her if you wish.” Tears stream in torrents down my cheeks. In the distance I can hear my parents wailing. A white-hot pain sears through my entire body causing me to double over involuntarily. My chest contracts so that I can’t breathe at all. The room is spinning. I feel sick.

********

Two hours later and I’ve finally calmed down enough to be spoken to rationally. They had to call in security to control me but I feel better now. Not better. That’s the wrong word. Calmer. On the outside anyway, my insides are still in turmoil. My parents have both been to say goodbye to Katherine. I don’t know if I can cope with seeing her right now, but I know I’ll regret it if I don’t. A young nurse leads me down a naked corridor to a cold, dimly lit room. In the middle of the room lies a hospital bed covered with a sheet. I ask if I can be left alone and the nurse leaves.

I stand dumbly for a minute, not sure what to do. Slowly, I approach the bed and peel back the sheet. Katherine is lying there, pale and lifeless. Her face is swollen and covered in cuts. Dried blood streaks her flaxen hair. She looks peaceful despite her painful disfigurement. I stroke her cheek and gently kiss her lips. They are cold and rigid. My pain overwhelms me once again and I drop to my knees, sobbing. I hold her hand tightly in mine as I try to talk to her through my tears. I try to apologise, try to tell her how I feel. I know that she can’t hear me and that I’m not making any sense but I have to tell her. She has to know that I’m sorry.

My sobs slow and eventually cease as the horrifying realisation sinks in. It’s too late. She’ll never know. I will have to carry this disgusting secret with me forever. Never able to confess, never able to make it OK. And even worse, I’d lost my sister, my soul mate. We’d never be able to share things any more. Never again would I see her beautiful smile, see the sunlight dance on her crown of hair, see the love in her eyes when she looked at me. Right there, on the hospital floor, I lost my will to live.

********

The next few weeks were a blur. I went to bed as soon as I got home from the hospital and refused to move. I never spoke. I barely ate; food had become tasteless so I just ate what I needed to survive. I hadn’t showered so I smelt revolting. My eyes were bloodshot from crying and I was frightening to look at. But I didn’t care. I knew I should be trying to be strong and support my parents but I couldn’t do it. I was locked in a world of anguish and despair. Nothing could comfort me and nothing would ever be right again.

I attended Katherine’s funeral. I washed, shaved and dressed in a smart black suit. I stood like a zombie throughout, not speaking to anyone. I didn’t even cry. I had no more tears left except those on the inside. I refused to go to the wake afterwards, I retreated home to my bed, much to the distress of my parents. Of course they were concerned about me. I was sorry but I was into much pain to do anything. Let alone pretend everything was alright.

The dreams had stopped. That was one thing I could be grateful for, but it seemed insignificant now. There was no differentiation between sleep and awake. It was all just a haze, in which time had no meaning. The hole Katherine had ripped in my chest grew day by day, engulfing me in its blackness. After three weeks I was no longer a human being. Just a bruised and battered shell with nothing inside except an expanding emptiness filled with hatred. It was an emptiness that stretched on into eternity and eventually, it swallowed me up.

One night, I sat up in bed, quite suddenly and unexpectedly. I wasn’t sure why I had moved and blood rushed to my head from the excursion. I moved involuntarily to the top drawer of my desk where I kept the penknife that my dad had given me for my fourteenth birthday. I wasn’t totally aware of what I was doing. All I knew was that I had to end this pain. This torture that refused to end, but kept gnawing at me, never giving me a moment’s peace.

As I unfolded the blade, a poem came into my head that Katherine had written on a folder somewhere:

‘I’m going to write a poem, a poem with a twist,

I’ll write it with a razor blade, I’ll write it on my wrist,

And if I write it properly a fountain should appear,

And with this pretty fountain, my troubles disappear.’

Troubles disappear. Yes. I’d finally be at peace. I’d be with Katherine again.

The sharp knife gleamed in the moonlight. I contemplated it for a second; it looked friendly and inviting. It seemed to whisper “I can help you, I can make everything better.” I placed the point of the blade in the centre of my wrist and made a deep incision vertically up my arm. Crimson velvet spilled out, spurting in time with my pulse and spilling over my arm onto my blue bed sheets. I watched the red river with fascination as my arm throbbed. I suppose it must have been painful but I didn’t notice. Compared to how I was feeling inside, it was nothing.

I repeated the process with my other arm and lay back onto my bed as my head started to spin. I felt light and free. My sorrow spilled onto bed, soaked into the sheets, through to the mattress, and left me contented and peaceful. I closed my eyes and floated into the air. A smile spread across my face as darkness covered everything. And then there was nothing. Blissful nothing. Dan, the boy I had come to hate with all my passion, was gone.

********

So, here I am, watching my parents go through their second funeral of the year. I wish I could do something to make up for the pain I’d caused them, but it would have happened either way. I died with Katherine, that night in the hospital. Those next few weeks were just an imitation of life, going through the motions without really being there. I would have wasted away slowly anyway, stopped eating, or breathing. At least the way it happened was quick.

I wish I’d walked into town in the rain. I wish I hadn’t gone into her room. I wish her friends had come 10 minutes later. I wish she’d missed her bus. But it’s too late for that now. My story is over. And I never did see that movie.